


Can You Please Stay With Me?

by pickalily



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, rivetra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickalily/pseuds/pickalily
Summary: Maybe it's better to be apart, but neither of them wants to say goodbye.
Relationships: Levi/Petra Ral
Comments: 31
Kudos: 61





	1. Please Don't Leave Me (I Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> My debut on ao3~ I feel as if I have grown quite a bit as a writer, although there's always room to grow. Some of you might know me on Tumblr, but others might be new to my writing. Either way, I hope you enjoy ^^

Petra can’t even remember what they were fighting about. Nowadays, it seems like they fight about everything and nothing at all. They fight over the most trivial of matters, things that she can’t recall when she wakes up the next morning. It’s never violent, but it always hurts. 

It didn’t use to be like this. It used to be easier when they were young and dumb and still in love. When they first moved in together, Petra was ecstatic and she knew Levi was too even if he was too emotionally stunted to show it. He sat beside her as she flipped through the furniture catalog, nodding at every piece she pointed at no matter how ridiculous it was. She accused him of not really paying attention, laughing at him and saying there was absolutely no way that he was okay with the horrific leopard-print bean bag chairs she jokingly picked out for their living room. He only backtracked then, saying that he didn’t particularly care for it but he’d find a way to like it if that’s what she absolutely wanted, and she laughed at him even more. They ended up not buying anything that Petra had chosen, opting for a more contemporary theme rather than whatever ridiculous piece she could find in the catalog. It ended up quite nice - more monochrome than she had been hoping for - but there were a few touches here and there that made it a little cozier. She liked the fuzzy beige rug that they had put in, the one Levi complains about because he thinks vacuuming is a bitch, and the plush pillows decorating the otherwise plain gray couch with their zig-zag patterns. Petra honestly hadn’t liked it very much at first. She preferred a more traditional look while Levi leaned towards more modern pieces, but contemporary felt like a good compromise between the two. At first glance, it looked more cool than cozy, but nothing felt more like home when she and Levi were on the couch, their limbs lazily entangled after eating leftover Chinese takeout from the night before. 

She can hardly stand to be in their apartment now. She hates its muted tones, its lack of color, the sharp lines, and the lack of curves. It’s been a month since she’s been home before nine, and she usually leaves early in the morning before the sun even has a chance to rise. The apartment that was once her home - their home - is now merely a place for her to sleep and shower. Even on the weekends, she’s found excuses to be out, choosing to work in the office during the weekend on made-up projects instead of resting at home. It’s probably the same for Levi, she thinks, because she’s hardly seen him at all. She can’t complain though. It’s easier to avoid someone if they’re avoiding you too. 

A year ago, she never would have imagined willingly being apart from Levi for more than a day or two. She would have missed him too much. She liked resting in his arms after a long day at work, and she knows he found comfort when she curled up against him under the sheets. Even his presence was enough to soothe her, and she felt solace in knowing that he would be waiting for her at the apartment when she returned. A year isn’t even that long ago, but it feels like such days happened in a different lifetime. 

She can’t say for certain when all this fighting had begun, but she knows how it started. It was probably a little less than two months ago when she told him her work was giving her a promotion. He didn’t smile - Levi was never really one to smile even when he was happy - but the corner of his mouth twitched upward and he reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face. 

“It’s in Manchester,” she told him. 

“Manchester like …,” he said, eyes widening slightly. 

“Like … England,” Petra said slowly. She was ecstatic at first when she heard the news and she was even more excited to share it with Levi, but looking at his expression made her regret not keeping the news to herself. It was a little painful looking at him, but she did genuinely believe it was a good opportunity for the both of them. It just made sense for her professionally and financially and Levi … well, he had been holding onto this city for so long. The only things left for him were memories of people that had already gone. She was hoping that she wouldn’t be another person to contribute to that list. 

Levi was silent for a moment, looking at her but his thoughts were a million miles away. “Manchester …,” he repeated. He withdrew his hand from her face. “Are you taking it?” 

“Of course,” Petra replied without hesitation. She saw him flinch the tiniest bit and she swore at herself inwardly. She should have paused for a second or two before giving a reply. Desperately, she reached out for him, taking his hands gently in hers. “I think it’s a wonderful opportunity. It’s a lot better than my current role at the company. Is that … bad?” 

Her words seemed to snap him out of his reverie. “Of course not,” he said hastily. He squeezed her hands just a little too hard. “It’s great. It’s what you’ve wanted right?” 

Somehow, the truth felt like the wrong answer, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. “Yes,” she breathed, and she could see his face fall just the tiniest bit before he looked away. 

“England’s pretty far away,” he said after a moment. 

“I guess so.” She never had to pick her words carefully around Levi before, but speaking to him now felt like walking on eggshells. No, this was much more difficult than walking on eggshells. Eggshells were much less easy to break. Cautiously, she asks, “It’s nice, isn’t it? It would be nice to go together.” 

He didn’t answer, not right away. It was difficult to gauge what he was feeling. His face could be unfathomable when he wanted it to be. What was he thinking about now? His mother? His uncle? His friends? Her? “It’s what you deserve, Petra,” he says. His eyes flit downward before looking over at her with a gaze that’s almost wistful. “Still, it’s far.” 

“We’ll make it work,” she told him, but she felt as if she were pleading. “It’ll all work out, Levi.” 

“Of course,” he said, but she detected hesitancy in his voice. He leaned toward her, brushing his lips against her temple, but he pulled away too soon. If she had known it would be their last moment of tenderness, she would have pulled him closer and held onto him tighter, but he slipped away from her a little too easily, disappearing into the corner of their apartment to spend time on a work project that Petra’s not even sure existed. 

He hasn’t really talked to her since then, but she’s never really talked to him about it either. Really, they were both at fault. Maybe there was the possibility of resolving it all if they only took the time to talk about it together, but there was a slim chance that it would only widen the distance between them even further. In the end, Petra decided that it was better not to talk about it. When the time came, they could work it out together, she thought, but now it’s a week before her flight and she’s not certain of anything anymore. 

That night Petra came home early, or at least earlier than usual. The sun had just set and she had decided to take off for the night. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t keep putting off packing just because she was afraid of bumping into Levi and shoving the topic of Manchester in his face. Besides, there’s a chance that he would be out late again just like all those other nights. Somehow it doesn’t surprise her when she turns the key to their apartment and opens the door to find him in the living room, but all the boxes and suitcases lying on the floor do. 

“What’s … going on?” Petra asks. She takes a cautious step forward. The entire space is unfamiliar to her now even though it’s exactly the same, only emptier. She had thought it was unfriendly before with all of its black and gray and white, but now it looks even more so with all of Levi’s things gone. When she turns to look at Levi, he just sits there on top of the coffee table they had picked out. His expression isn’t angry, isn’t sad, isn’t anything except … tired. It makes Petra want to scream and cry and beg all at once, but she can’t find the energy. 

“I’m leaving,” Levi says warily. He pushes himself off the coffee table and reaches for the handle of a suitcase, pulling it out and dragging it behind him as he walks towards her. It’s scary to her how little emotion he has in his face. “I can’t stay here anymore.” 

She should at least ask him why, but they’ve been through enough for her to know the answer without asking. It’s a little bit unfair, she thinks. He should have let her leave first. She’s not used to it like he is. Then again, maybe that’s why he’s leaving in the first place. 

Out of everything they’ve been through, Petra thinks this is the worst. She would rather he had left with more of a fight. She wants screaming and fighting and crying. She wants him to slam the door behind him only to come back the next morning, crawling onto the side of the bed she had left open for him. He would stay far enough away that they couldn’t reach out to each other, but at least he would be close enough for her to know that he was there. And that was all the apology he would ever give her, but that was the only apology she ever needed. 

He stops right in front of her, the suitcase still behind him. “I’ll come for the rest of my things tomorrow. It’ll be early in the morning, so you don’t have to worry,” he says. He pauses for a bit, choosing his next words carefully. “You don’t have to worry … about all of my things.” 

She’s not worried about any of that - his things being in the way or bumping into him again when he came to collect the rest of his items - but she was worried about one thing. “What about you?” Petra asks. She tries to ask it as calmly as she can. She tries not to step in front of him, her futile attempt to stop him from leaving. “Where will you stay?” 

Levi sighs and looks up at the ceiling, tired, before looking back at her. It looks as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s never been much of a sleeper, but he looks especially tired now. “I’ll crash at Mike and Nanaba’s for a bit before finding a new apartment. I’d stay in this one but…” Levi gestures around them, at the apartment they once called home now only half-full. “It’s a little too big for just one person.” 

She knows exactly what he means, but that doesn’t mean her heart doesn’t break anyway. She hadn’t really thought of what would happen to the apartment when she left. It was stupid of her to believe that he would continue living here even after she was gone. There are too many traces of her - of them - on every surface, every corner, every crevice of this space. It’s why she feels the smallest bit of relief knowing that she’ll be able to escape it soon. Why, then, does it hurt to know he feels the same way? 

“I guess you’re leaving then,” she finally says. 

“Yeah.” He takes one final look at Petra before pushing past her and reaching for the door. He turns the handle too abruptly, steps out too suddenly, leaves too quickly. 

_Wait_ , Petra wants to say. She should burst through the door and chase after him. She should be gripping his wrist so tightly that her knuckles turn white. She should be on her knees, begging him to stay while tears stream down her face. _Please don’t leave me._

But it’s too late and he’s gone already, leaving her empty like the room she stands in. She doesn’t know how she gets through the rest of the day. The sun sets and night falls, but Petra doesn’t notice the time passing by. She’s not sure what she ate for dinner, if she even ate at all, and she’s not sure how she ended up in bed or how she managed to fall asleep. Vaguely, she recalls setting an alarm, 5 AM or some other ungodly time, in the hopes of catching Levi before her flight at the end of the week, but when she stumbles out of the bedroom, she finds the apartment vacated except for the things he had left behind. 

The days after that become more and more painful. Everywhere Petra looks, she finds a reminder of him. The kitchen that he cleaned meticulously every night. The bathroom sink where he cut himself shaving once because he was too busy looking over at her from the corner of his eye. The living room couch they slept on half the time because they were too tired from work to walk to the bedroom. It becomes so unbearable that she briefly thinks about renting a room at a hotel for a day or two, but she knows leaving this place will be even more painful. Instead, she wraps herself up in the sheets where his scent still lingers and sleeps as often as she can. 

Somehow she makes it to the end of the week, even finds herself at the airport although she can't recall how, with all her belongings packed and their old furniture picked up yesterday by the thrift store on the corner of the street. She didn’t have to worry about the apartment or their lease. Levi had already worked it out with the landlord before he left. Of course, he did. She has tried to hate him, but she’s found it impossible. It might just be easier for her to keep remembering until she finally forgets the curve of his cheek or the way his bangs fall in his eyes. Yes, she thinks as she closes her eyes, letting the escalator carry her to her next destination. It can’t hurt to remember him for just a little while longer. 

It wasn’t supposed to end, but there are some things that are beyond their control. But at least she has memories. When she’s lonely, she can remember them with their fingers interlocked, her leaning over and whispering in Levi’s ear. When she’s sad, she can remember the way it felt when he stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ear so that he could see her face better. When she’s close to sleep, she can dream of him, the way he said his name with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. 

Petra. 

For a moment, Petra thinks she hears his voice and, although she knows it’s impossible, she turns anyway. She searches for Levi’s face in a sea of strangers, and she feels the hollow in her chest grow even deeper when she comes up with nothing. 

Petra steps off the escalator and takes a few steps before stopping. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. She clears her head of Levi, but she knows he’ll return in her thoughts later tonight. With a sigh, she opens her eyes and takes a step, finally leaving.


	2. Please Wait for Me (I Miss You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is no stranger to being left behind, so why is it so difficult for him to say goodbye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's one of the first times I have plotted out a story so fully. Well, I had another series on my tumblr, but that one was quite short. It was more of short story split into many chapters. This one feels more like a full story to me, so I hope I do well. I'm using it as practice to write a longer multi-chaptered stories :)

Levi should be accustomed to sleeping alone. Back in his and Petra’s old apartment, the gray couch in the living room had practically become his bed during their last month together. He doesn’t know how he managed to sleep alone for so long. He had fooled himself into believing that being away from Petra was less painful than being with her, but he now realizes that the reality is far worse than he could have ever imagined. Every night he lies awake, smothering himself in Mike’s pillows and blankets in the hopes that it will help him forget Petra’s scent. It’s useless, of course, and he finds himself missing her familiar aroma of peaches and magnolia flowers. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, Levi gives up. Nobody gets hurt if he remembers, he thinks. Only he does. 

He’s always lonely now. He’s been lonely ever since Petra left, but there’s something about being awake at 2 a.m. that makes him feel even lonelier. It’s the darkness, he thinks, that reminds him of her. There was something about early morning hours that made him love Petra the most. No … it’s not that he loved her the most during those times, but it would be at those hours where he would realize just how much he loved her. Right now, the quiet reminds him of how much he still loves her. Even though she’s gone, he can still imagine her expression as she sleeps, her brow relaxed after having it furrowed for most of the day at work. He still remembers the shape of her, the curve of her waist as she lays on her side with the blanket draped loosely over her. He can even recall her breathing, shallow and slow, as she dreams of things she’ll share with him in the morning. Levi misses her warmth, the feeling of her soft skin as he reaches out to stroke her cheek with his thumb, so he turns around. He reaches out for her, to find her hidden underneath the blankets, and hold her closely against him. It’s only when he finds himself falling, hitting the ground with a loud thud, that he awakens and finds himself alone once more. 

Levi doesn’t get it up, instead choosing to lie there with his cheek pressed against the carpet. His head is throbbing from the fall, but somehow it doesn’t hurt as much as it should. He only looks up when he sees a pair of feet in front of him, and he finds his friend Mike looking down at him. 

“I’m fine,” Levi mumbles, clutching onto the edge of the sofa and pulling himself up before Mike can offer him a hand. He flops down onto the couch, not even bothering to sit up straight. He knows exactly what expression Mike is making right now. He closes his eyes, not caring to see it. 

“Are you sure?” The sofa sinks more as Mike takes a seat beside Levi. “Because it sounded like you hit your head pretty hard.” 

“Can barely even feel it,” Levi replies. He opens his eyes, realizing just how bright it is in the apartment that Mike shares with Nanaba. He searches for his phone, spying it on the coffee table in front of him, but he finds he has no energy to reach for it. He feels like it’s only been a few hours since he was last awake, but it looks as though more have passed. Tiredly, he looks over at Mike and asks, “What time is it?” 

“Almost eleven,” Mike replies. 

Jesus, Levi thinks, but he doesn’t say anything. He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, and then stands up. He’s already rifling through his backpack, looking for a change of clothes so that he can leave the apartment. 

“Are you leaving already?” Mike asks, an eyebrow raised. He gets up from the couch, standing behind Levi. He towers over him, that damn giant. “You don’t want to eat breakfast or anything? I could whip something up for you really quick.” 

“I’ll find something to eat outside.” Levi grabs a ragged pair of jeans and a faded gray t-shirt. He’s about to head into the bathroom and change, but Mike’s hand stops the door from shutting. 

“Levi, don’t you think you should talk to Petra at least once?” Mike asks. He sticks his foot in the door to prevent Levi from closing it, wincing when Levi tries to slam the door shut anyway. With a grunt, he opens the door wider. “You could call her. Ask her how she’s doing.” 

“No,” Levi replies. He tries to shut the door on Mike once more, but it doesn’t budge. He glares at Mike, but the bearded giant shows no signs of moving. He’s beginning to regret telling Mike everything that happened that night, but it’s his fault for drinking too much. “We broke up. It’s done.” He kicks Mike and it’s hard enough for Mike to stumble backward, allowing Levi to finally slam the door shut. He can hear Mike cursing him behind the door and he smirks. He listens for a moment. It’s so quiet that he thinks Mike has already left. Levi is halfway stripped of his shirt when he hears Mike speak again. 

“You know, just because people leave doesn’t mean they’re gone forever.” There’s a pause. “I know you’ve lost a lot of people in your life, Levi, but … those people didn’t have a choice. And this time … you were the one who left. You chose to leave.” 

There is one thing that Levi never mentioned to Mike. He had seen Petra one last time before she boarded the airplane. He hadn’t planned on seeing her off. It was only a mixture of madness and longing that forced him to run to the airport at the very last minute, hoping that he would be able to chase her down and beg her to stay. He hadn’t anticipated the crowds, cursing when the cab he took was stuck in traffic at least a mile from the airport where Petra was departing from. Tossing all the money in his wallet at the cab driver, Levi had jumped out, sprinting as quickly as his legs would carry him towards the security checkpoint. Other people stared at him while some cursed at him as he pushed past them. He didn’t give them half a second of his attention, his focus on someone else entirely. He finally made it into the building, breathing heavily. Glancing at his watch, he was worried that he was far too late when he spied a familiar shade of ginger at the top of the escalator. His legs ached, but he found the strength to follow her, practically running up the steps. When he reached the top, he could feel himself on the verge of collapse, but he was too far to give up now. Seeing her in the distance, he called out her name and he felt his heart beat violently against his chest as she turned to find him. Mustering up the last of his energy, he began to walk towards her. He was sure he saw her face, almost certain she did, but she turned around just as he was about to shout her name again. As Levi’s steps slowed to a stop, he watched her leave him once more. 

“You don’t know anything,” Levi mutters. He strips off his shirt and discards it on the floor, shrugging on the faded tee in its place. His pants also fall to the floor and Levi shuffles on his jeans. When he opens the door, he’s not surprised to see Mike still there. Not wanting to listen to any more unwanted advice, Levi pushes past his friend, shoving his dirty laundry into his backpack and fishing out his wallet. He can hear Mike try to talk to him again, but he filters out everything Mike says and walks toward the door, mumbling about how he’ll be back later this evening. Fingers brush against Levi’s elbow, grabbing for him, but he pulls away from them and slips out the door. 

He’s not sure where he’s going. Just somewhere where he can find time to think. Time to forget. Levi finds he can’t stand to listen to the sound of his steps, feeling as if the rhythm is off without Petra beside him to match his tempo. He slows down as he walks, thinking that this new cadence will help keep his mind off his ex. Eventually, he settles on a stilted pace, his feet dragging against the sidewalk. It’s awkward and odd, but it no longer has him thinking about how Petra’s footsteps should be here to accompany his. In spite of this, he still finds his thoughts returning to her. 

As he wanders around the city, Levi wonders where he should go. He can’t keep going down this current street. If he does, he’ll bump into their favorite cafe, the one they used to frequent on Saturday mornings. Even now he can smell the croissants from down the streets. Vaguely, he wonders whether or not they’ve run out the danishes Petra always ordered. She always liked the strawberry ones best. 

Quickly, Levi goes around the corner, almost bumping into somebody else because of his sharp turn. He hastily mumbles a half-assed apology, not bothering to stop and check to see if the person is alright. As he walks down the streets, he curses himself. There isn’t any space in this city where he can’t find a trace of Petra. He can see the ghost of her in the corner bookstore, the only one they ever bothered to visit because it didn’t reek of Starbucks and suburban mothers wearing too much perfume. Beyond that is a pet store, one that Petra would always drag Levi into even though he never wanted to have pets. She always looked so giddy petting the kittens, letting them climb all over her lap, that Levi almost changed his mind over half a dozen times. Levi walks faster, trying to get far enough away from the memory of her, but there’s always something - a restaurant, a quaint antique store, a grocery store - that brings his thoughts back to her.

It doesn’t surprise Levi, then, when he emerges from a flower shop he had absentmindedly stumbled into. In his hand, he clutches a bouquet of flowers. Magnolias. He has half a mind to run back in the store to return them, but he can’t bear the thought of explaining himself. He finds himself wandering the streets with the bouquet in hand, the water dripping from the bouquet onto the street where it leaves a trail of where he’s been. 

Levi thought he would be used to people leaving. It feels as though that’s all anyone ever does anymore. They might stay for a little while, some longer than others, but they all leave in the end. Isn’t that why he’s alone now? First, his mother. Some would say it was his father that left first, a deadbeat dad who left before Levi was even born, but his mother was the first one who mattered. Then it was Farlan and Isabel. Next, it was Erwin. Then it was Hanji. Some of them left because they had no other choice. Others left for better opportunities. And now it’s Petra who’s gone just when Levi had started to believe that she would be the one who would stay behind. 

_ You were the one that left. You chose to leave _ . 

Levi stubbornly refuses to believe the words that Mike had said earlier this morning. True. he had been the one to pack his bags and leave first, but Petra was going to leave him anyway. It’s not as if he had a choice. She would have said goodbye to him eventually. 

_ We’ll make it work. It’ll all work out, Levi _ . 

He remembers her invitation to join her across the ocean, one that he had ignored. Why couldn’t he take her hand that time and agree to come with her? It’s not as if she had been adamant about going alone. It’s not as if she had wanted to leave him behind. He had somehow convinced himself this was the case, but now he realizes it was because he had wanted to stay behind. Why, though? 

Levi stops in his tracks, looking to his left. He sighs when he sees the gates to the cemetery. Of course, he thinks. Of course, I couldn’t leave. I could never leave. 

He doesn’t have to search for his mother’s grave. He knows the path to it by heart. Even as he walks there, his head is filled with thoughts of Petra, her broken expression when he walked through the door. He was cruel enough not to even give her a final glance as he left even though he so desperately wanted not to. He can’t blame her for not looking back at him when he had called her name through the airport. 

His mother’s grave sits on the top of a small hill, one that gives him a half-decent view of the city. Farlan’s and Isabel’s headstones are nearby. Levi can find theirs almost as easily as his mother's. He’s been here far too often. 

With a sign, Levi lays the flowers on top of his mother’s grave. The words are so faded that they’re getting difficult to read. _Kuchel Ackerman. Loving mother._ He reaches out to trace them, the letters rough underneath his finger. He looks at his finger when he pulls it away, grimacing at the dirt on his skin. 

Levi takes a tissue from his pocket and wipes away the grime, his mind drifting towards Petra once more. He wonders if she likes it in Manchester, if it’s cold there, if she misses him. He wonders if she’s changed in the few days since she’s left, if she’s still wearing her favorite coat to keep warm, if she’s cut her hair yet. He wonders if she’s found a favorite restaurant already, if she misses the food here, if she misses eating with someone. 

He finds himself with his phone pressed against his ear, the dull beep bleating as he waits for someone to pick up. He doesn’t have to check his screen to know he’s calling Petra. He should probably hang up now and make her believe it was just a mistake, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’d rather have her ignore his call. It would make him feel more justified in staying behind. After a while, he’s convinced that Petra has chosen to ignore his call and is letting it go to voicemail, but he’s surprised when she picks up. 

“Levi?” Her voice sounds so close that Levi can almost imagine her next to him. He closes his eyes when he listens to her speak, wishing that she were here. “Levi, are you alright?” 

_No. I’m empty without you,_ Levi wants to reply. He wants to explain himself, wants to tell her everything that has happened since she’s left, wants to ask her to wait for him, but he knows it’s selfish. It’s cruel after everything he’s already done. So he stays there a moment, letting the silence linger between them, before finally hanging up. There are things that Levi still wants to say to her, things he needs to say, but they aren’t things that can be said over the phone. 

Levi pockets the phone and turns back towards his mother’s grave. The corner of his mouth quirks upward. His breath is shaky, but he’s never been one to cry. “Hey, mom,” Levi says, voice trembling. His hand rests gently on his mother’s headstone. “I have to leave. But you understand why, right?” 

A gentle breeze brushes past him just then, caressing his face tenderly, and Levi takes this as a sign. It’s a sign for him to move on. 

* * *

He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going. He has a vague idea. He knows he probably should have planned for this better. Only someone crazy would fly across the ocean in search of someone, someone that might not want to see him at all, but it will be fine. It’ll all work out in the end, Levi thinks. 

He sits back in his chair, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. The seat is cramped and small, and it seems Levi will be unable to extend his legs completely despite not being a large man to begin with. As he’s busy adjusting his seat, a flight attendant walks by, checking on all the passengers. 

“Are you alright, sir?” the flight attendant asks. He gestures towards the cart he’s pushing around filled with snacks and refreshments. “Is there anything I can get you?” 

“No, don’t worry,” Levi says with a shake of his head. The flight attendant is already nodding and walking away, getting ready to help any other passengers that might require his assistance. Still, Levi speaks anyway, the words needing to be said as he sinks down into his seat. “I’m fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My boyfriend told me that it's illegal to run through an airport for romantic goodbyes and things, but I don't listen to him so this chapter still exists ^^ A good song to listen to for this is Oneus' "A Song Written Easily." It sounds pretty but it's a little sad. I like to make playlists in my head that fit the theme of what I'm writing, but I can't publish them because I only know a few songs so all of the playlists would sound the same, haha. 
> 
> Sorry if the format is a bit weird. I'm still getting used to posting on ao3 ^^"


	3. Can You Please Stay With Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing beautiful about the way they left things, and yet Petra can't stop thinking about Levi. A new job in a new city should be more than enough to occupy her mind, but she finds herself thinking about Levi every second of the day, wondering if he's pretending to be okay the same way she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around for the last chapter! I hope you enjoy it ^^ It's a bit glum now that I'm on week 4 (?) of shelter-in-place, but it's a bit better when I can write and publish things :)

Petra stares out the window of her office, looking at the clouds of gray. It’s cold and dull and gloomy, although not so different from the weather in the city she had left behind. She thinks. Now that she thinks about it, she’s not that sure what the weather was like in Shiganshina. She wants to say that it was the same, but she can’t remember the last time she had pulled out an umbrella before she came to Manchester. In all the memories she has of Shiganshina, she can remember clear blue skies and the sun peeking out behind skyscrapers, its light almost blinding, but that seems so long ago. Hadn’t it rained sometime in her last month there? It must have at least once or twice, she thinks, because how else would she be so familiar and unbothered by all this rain? 

With a frown, Petra pulls out her phone, tapping on the Instagram app and flipping through her profile. Her most recent photos, taken over a month ago, show the cityscape and beautiful weather - not a cloud in the sky. She flips through more: a photo of flowers blooming on a gorgeous spring day in the park, her rubbing a dog’s belly as it rolled around in the grass, her with an ice cream in hand. And her and Levi, sunglasses over his eyes and that perpetual scowl on his face. 

Petra slams her phone facedown on the table and buries her head in her hands. She should probably delete those photos from her phone, but she can’t bring herself to. She thought it would be fine to just keep them there just so long as she didn’t look at them, and she had done a pretty good job of that until now. Before, it had only been a couple of glances here and there. She wanted to see how much it would affect her, if seeing her ex-boyfriend’s face would ameliorate the throbbing in her chest. (It didn’t.) Eventually, Petra turned off the notifications on all her social media apps and only used her phone for the essentials - phone calls, text messages, and emails. It’s worked well for the most part, and she thought the distance would allow her to get better in time. Then again, the deep knife she felt in her chest just from a brief glance of her old boyfriend is probably a sign that she’s not doing as well as she thought she was. 

There’s a knock on her door - three short raps - and Petra looks up to see her coworker Anka at the door. Anka, meeting Petra’s eyes, flashes her a smile and lifts her hands up to show that they’re full of files and a plate full of pastries. She raises her eyebrows and mouths a bit apologetically, “Door?” 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice you earlier,” Petra says as she opens the door, a bit frazzled. For a brief second, she wonders if she’s forgotten to go to a meeting, but Anka merely laughs her off. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Anka says. The woman sets down the files on Petra’s desk, placing the plate of desserts on top of it. She collapses onto the extra seat Petra keeps in her office and yawns. “Ah, I noticed you weren’t looking too well today, so I decided to grab you a few snacks from the break room. I was going to get some coffee too, but the last time I tried something like that I spilled it all over my trousers. I swear there’s still a stain on it even though I’ve washed it out half a dozen times, but Mitabi tells me he can hardly see a difference from how it was before.” 

“Ah, thank you,” Petra says. She takes a lemon square without much thought, regretting immediately after the first bite. How can something taste so intensely sweet and tart at the same time? She wishes, for a brief moment, that Anka had brought the coffee too, but the thought makes her feel ungrateful so she swallows down the tangy pastry and mumbles a quick “delicious!” between gritted teeth. 

Anka gives her friend a sympathetic smile and pats Petra’s hand kindly. “The bakery never quite gets lemon squares right. Or maybe you need to be in a certain type of mood to enjoy them. Pixis adores them, but he’s quite batty at times,” Anka says, and she speaks about their employer with such affection in her voice that even Petra manages a smile. Anka reaches for a pastry horn that’s dusted in sugar and stuffed to the brim with custard cream. “Here, try this one instead.” 

“I’m not sure-” Petra begins, but Anka is already shoving the pastry into Petra’s open mouth leaving her no choice but to eat it. Anka is right - it’s much better than the lemon square was. The shell of the pastry is crisp and buttery, and the custard cream is so rich and velvety in comparison. She should ask Anka for the name of the bakery so that she can visit it sometime, do some exploring around Manchester like she had meant to do when she first arrived, but for some reason, it slips her mind. “Ah, it’s good,” Petra finally says. 

“Good, eat another one,” Anka commands. She doesn’t stop watching Petra until she sees the ginger reach for another puff pastry horn. Anka picks out a small tart - it’s probably only two inches wide but it’s filled with a fragrant pink jam and has berries piled on top - and takes a delicate bite. “I thought it might do you good. You’ve been glum for a while now. I’m thinking it might be the weather. A lot of people who move here get like that once they come to Manchester because it’s so gloomy all the time. They call it … SAD? Seasonal affective disorder or something.” 

“SAD?” Petra repeats. It’s difficult for her to process all of the words coming out of Anka’s mouth. For some reason, she feels unbearably exhausted and wants nothing more than to go home and sleep bundled under all her blankets. She would blame it on the time of day or the week ending, but it’s Tuesday morning and she really has no excuse. When she realizes that Anka is still watching her, Petra hastily shakes her head. “Ah, no … I think I’m still adjusting to life here. It’s a little lonely, I guess, moving so far away.” 

“Mmm, homesickness,” Anka says with a knowing nod. She leans over Petra’s desk, resting an elbow on it. “That’s pretty common, too. Do you talk to anyone back home? Video call or just on the phone?” 

_ No. _ She’s only talked to her father since she’s landed in Manchester. If a notification on her phone popped up from someone else, she would swipe it away, disappointed that it wasn’t who she wanted it to be. Petra had sworn that she would get to them later. It’s just that flying overseas, moving in, and getting adjusted to her new job left her with very little energy to respond to messages. But then a night went by and then a few days and now it’s been a week and a half since she’s received those messages. Her friends probably think she’s dead or at the very least ignoring them. God, she’s terrible. 

“I can never find the time,” Petra says with a rueful smile. 

“Then take time off,” Anka says easily with a wave of her hand. “Oops.” She frowns when a smidge of powdered sugar lands on her pantsuit and begins to hastily swipe away at it. 

“Time off? I just came two weeks ago. It wouldn’t look good to take a vacation so soon even if it’s only for a day,” Petra says. She offers Anka a tissue although she doesn’t think it’ll help much. 

“You came into work the day after your plane landed. People usually give themselves at least a week to settle in before coming into work.” Anka rubs at her trousers with the tissue but it hardly does anything aside from rub the sugar deeper into the fabric. She sighs and stuffs the rest of the tart in her mouth. Holding a hand over her mouth, Anka says, “At least just take the rest of this day off. You really look like you need it, and nothing makes Pixis unhappier than overworked employees.” 

“Really?” Petra says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, he doesn’t like it when I swipe all the sweets from the break room either, but he eats more of these than he should. And he doesn’t know I’m the one that takes these anyway.” Anka wipes her fingers on the tissue before disposing of it in the trash can sitting beside Petra’s desk. She gets up, straightening out her suit, and then looks at Petra. “Now, come on. I’ll see to it that you leave before you tire yourself out working. I swear Pixis won’t mind. And I’ll give Gelgar your work to do, so don’t worry about that one bit.”

Both of Petra’s eyebrows are raised this time but Anka waves her off. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ll give him the rest of the pastries too.” Anka grabs the plate of pastries and the folders that she had originally meant to give to Petra. She smacks her lips when she looks at the leftover goods. “Ah, yes. Plenty of lemon squares leftover. He won’t be able to resist.” 

Although she tries not to, Petra still giggles when Anka gives her a roguish wink. 

It’s much less funny when Petra’s outside of the office building, walking along the streets of Manchester wondering why on earth she agreed to take a half-day. She could traverse the city, perhaps seek out a cute trinket shop and buy something adorably useless for Anka as a thank you. Maybe she should go exploring to find that pastry shop, the one with the delicious custard cream horns. Petra could even just visit the tourist attractions, like the lovely canal she’s heard about in Castlefield or that lovely cathedral near the Irwell river that she’s passed by a half dozen times but has never bothered to actually venture into. But she always finds some reason or other not to go to each of these places. Anka probably doesn’t want something impractical as a gift and Petra doesn’t need more knick-knacks crowding her apartment when she hasn’t even unpacked her luggage yet. Finding the pastry shop is a bad idea since she’s just stuffed herself with desserts not even fifteen minutes ago. And the others … well, she’s not quite in the mood for sightseeing and she’s met enough locals to know that tourists are a bit of a nuisance in Manchester. She knows these are all excuses. This only leaves her with two options: go straight home and mope in her apartment among her boxes of unopened belongings or wander aimlessly around the city. 

Petra hates her apartment. Well, it’s a bit too soon to say whether she hates her apartment or not, but she knows she already dislikes being there. She’s eaten out at restaurants for dinner every night since she’s arrived, saying that she didn’t want to dirty up the kitchen before she finished unpacking. Really, she’s only made her bed (i.e. tossed all of her blankets and pillows onto the bed) and thrown all of her clothes in the closet. The rest of her things sit in luggage cases or boxes that she’s temporarily using as furniture, although it might soon be permanent if she doesn’t start unpacking. Petra blames it on the sudden wave of exhaustion she always feels when she gets home and sees all of her belongings waiting to be unpacked, but she knows it’s not the real reason. It’s just that she can’t fathom the idea of all of her things being put in their proper place and calling this apartment her new home. It would feel empty. It would feel wrong. And that’s the problem, really. 

Petra had attempted to unpack her things the first night, but she found it was impossible. She only opened one box before she wondered how she could possibly arrange all of her belongings while still making sure that Levi still had space for his home office. The cold realization that she wouldn’t have to worry about that hit her a second too soon and she quickly shut the box. She never thought to unpack since then except only to tell herself that she would do it later even though she knew she never would. 

It’s no use thinking about this, Petra tells herself, shaking her head. Others pass by her, watching as she breaks down internally, but Petra ignores them. She thinks about other things. Like how absolutely freezing it is even though she has a million layers on. It’s not raining or snowing. It’s just dreary and glum. What is that Anka said again? Seasonal affective disorder? Ah, that might be it, but Petra has a feeling that she’d still feel terrible even if the clouds parted and the sun began to shine. 

Maybe it’s best to occupy her mind some other way. She can count imaginary sheep. She can count the windows from every shop she passes by. She can count clouds; there are so many today. She settles on counting her steps instead, watching her feet as she does so, but thoughts of Levi interrupt her between each count. 

_ One _ . Levi’s hair, a dark black like spilled ink.  _ Two _ . Levi’s eyes, always narrowed and a stormy gray.  _ Three _ . Levi’s brow, thin and furrowed, making it seem as if he’s perpetually displeased.  _ Four _ . Levi’s nose, the curve of its bridge and its rounded tip.  _ Five _ . Levi’s mouth, constantly set in a thin line.  _ Six _ . Levi’s rare smile, the small upturn of it almost imperceptible but most definitely there upon a second glance.  _ Seven _ . Levi’s shoulder, unexpectedly broad for someone of his stature, but perfect for leaning on after a long day.  _ Eight _ . Levi’s arms, strong and sturdy, holding her tight.  _ Nine _ . Levi’s chest, his heart thumping against his ribcage as Petra leaned back against him.  _ Ten _ . Levi’s hands, his fingers intertwining with hers as they sat together on the couch, mindlessly watching another sitcom they’ve watched a dozen times before. 

Petra can’t tell if she feels better or worse remembering him. If she has to say, she supposes it’s about the same except remembering him is far more effortless than forgetting him will ever be. Levi’s not someone she can erase from her mind with a flip of a switch. Forgetting someone should happen naturally, the distance allowing the memories to fade over time, but is Levi someone she can ever really forget? Every detail of him is imprinted in her mind, and to take it all away would leave her feeling emptier than she feels now. Is it the same for him too? She had always assumed that it would be hardest for the person left behind, although she can’t say for certain who is who. 

_ He left you in the end, remember? He was the one who let you go _ , Petra reminds herself, but that doesn’t sound quite right. Maybe she should have said something to convince him to come with her, or maybe he should have tried harder to make her stay. If they had tried more, would it hurt less? She tries to remember that last night they had seen each other. Levi had told her he was leaving as casually as someone would talk about the weather, and she watched him go. He didn’t even cast her one last glance before he left. She should be remembering those details - how he had packed all of his things without her knowing, how he spoke to her with such indifference, and how he had left so easily - but she doesn’t. Instead, another memory slips into her mind. 

It was a week after Petra had landed in Manchester and she had just gotten off a call with her father. Even now, she can’t quite recall what they talked about. It was probably something about the weather or maybe about how much they missed each other. Her thoughts were elsewhere, though. She was thinking about Manchester and how the bustling city, one of the largest in England, felt so lonely. Shiganshina was a big city too, but it never felt as lonely as Manchester. For a brief second, she thought of phoning a friend. Maybe it would help to hear a familiar voice. Maybe it would help to hear Levi’s voice. Maybe it would help to hear him say that he misses her too. 

No, Petra thought with a shake of her head. It would be a step back from all the progress she had made after moving here even if she felt as if she was still holding on. And yet she still couldn’t stop herself from staring at her phone screen, her finger hovering over Levi’s contact because she had never been able to erase him from her phone. She nearly dropped her phone when it began ringing, Levi’s name flashing across the screen. 

Her first instinct is to accept the call, her thumb ready to swipe at her screen, but she hesitates at the last moment. There wasn’t any reason for Levi to be calling her. There was no reason for her to pick up. They've already parted ways. If he was calling her, it must be a mistake, she thought, because Levi wasn’t petty enough to call her back and demand any of his belongings that might have gotten lost during the move. She wondered if she should hang up now or let it go straight to her voicemail. After all, he just called her by mistake. 

_But what if he didn’t?_ Petra wanted to ignore the nagging voice in her head, but the more she tried the louder it became. Impulsively, she swiped at her phone and held it up to her cheek. “Levi?” she asked, breathless. 

There were no words on the other side. She heard the wind as it brushed by. She could hear the rush of city life in the distance. She could hear someone breathing steadily on the other side. But there were no words. And, yet, she somehow knew it was Levi from the way he breathed. It was too familiar for her to not know. 

“Levi,” she said, but again he said nothing. It seemed odd for him to call her by mistake and not say anything - not even to apologize or tell her that he hadn’t meant to dial her number - so he must have called her for a reason. But if he called her for a reason … why wasn’t he speaking? Worried, she asked, “Are you alright?” 

Again, there was no answer. There was just the sound of Levi’s breathing, in and out and in and out. Petra had always liked the rhythm of his breathing, slow and steady. She would listen to it as she fell asleep. Even now it was soothing despite the circumstances. They stayed like that for a moment, just listening to each other breathe, but it ends with a sudden  _ click _ and Petra was forced to face the fact that she was alone once more. 

It’s been a week since then, and Petra still doesn’t know what to make of that call. More than once she’s thought of calling Levi back and asking him about it, usually at night when he’s the only thing on her mind. She’s never gone through with it though. If it really had been a mistake, then it explains why Levi didn't call her back after that first time. Even if she were to call him up just to clarify, she would only end up looking like a fool for waiting so long just to make sure. Instead, she spends the night staring at her phone screen, turning it on and off every now and again just to check, and wishes for Levi to call her again even though she knows she shouldn’t. 

Petra glances down at her phone once more just as it begins to buzz. It startles Petra, nearly making her drop her phone again, but she sees that it’s only Anka calling. Catching her breath, Petra stops at the bridge she was about to cross, leaning against the railing. She feels the strangest mixture of disappointment and relief as she picks up. 

“Hi, Anka,” Petra says. She looks out across the river, watching the boats pass by. Her fingers fiddle with the buttons on her coat. “Is everything alright?” 

“Ah, yeah,” Anka says, but she sounds distracted. After a moment, Anka says, “Someone came into the office just now and asked to see you. He said he knew you from back in Shiganshina. Levi? I told him you already left, but I didn’t know if he was someone you wanted to see so I didn’t tell him anything else.” 

Petra can feel her heartbeat begin to pick up speed and she clutches at her chest with a hand. “Levi?” she asks. She pushes herself off the railing, her feet already carrying her where she needs to go. “Did he leave already?” 

“Yeah. He mumbled an apology and left, but he didn’t say where he was going,” Anka replies. “He left a few minutes ago, but I’m not sure how far away he is from the office now.” 

She’s jogging now, but Petra knows that she’ll be sprinting soon. “I’ll call you later. I have to do something,” Petra tells Anka, already pocketing the phone as she hangs up. In the hour since she’s left work, she’s probably walked three, possibly even four, miles across the city. Petra’s not sure how she has the energy to run back towards her workplace, but she won’t question it. As long as she gets to where she wants to go as quickly as possible, that’s all she really cares about. 

It takes a certain madness to run across a city, but Petra’s been losing her mind for the past two weeks and this breakdown is long overdue. She ignores puzzled looks from the people she runs past, excusing herself hurriedly when she finds herself pushing past a few of them when she hits a crowd. The back of her heels dig at her ankles and she knows she’ll be looking at blisters and cuts later tonight, but she clenches her jaw and runs anyway. The city becomes a blur the faster Petra runs, and she can feel her legs burning with every step she takes but she can’t seem to stop. She doesn’t know what would happen if she were to stop running, but she’s scared to find out. She can’t remember the last time she’s run this fast. Even when she was a teenager Petra hadn’t been able to run this quickly. Then again, she’s never really had anything worth running towards. 

She’s not sure when she stops, leaning against a railing by the river to catch her breath. Her heels have cut through her stockings and into her heels. She doesn’t have to check to see if they’re bleeding. Frustrated, Petra kicks them off even though she knows she’ll regret it later. Petra grabs onto the railing with one hand, panting heavily. It’s so stupid for her to think that she could have run that way. She’s only been running for ten minutes and she couldn’t have crossed more than a mile in that time. Maybe she really is crazy. 

Still huffing, Petra pulls her phone out of her pocket. In all the madness, she hadn’t thought of trying to call Levi. It makes far more sense than running across a city only to find that he’s already gone. Hell, he might have gone already, moved on after being told she had left work early as if she had anticipated his arrival and left on purpose, but they’ve avoided each other enough. Petra thinks it’s about time they’ve talked. 

Petra calls Levi, holding her breath as she holds the phone up to her ear to listen to the dull ring as she waits for him to pick up. She counts the seconds as she waits, hoping to distract herself, but she can’t even remember what comes after one. Instead, she waits anxiously, her free hand gripping at her coat as she waits. The spaces between each ring seem to take longer and longer, and Petra can feel her heart sink with every passing second. It’s almost about the last ring when she hears a voice calling her name. 

“Petra?” 

She looks at her phone, confused when she sees that Levi has still not picked up. For a second, she thinks she had just imagined Levi’s voice, but it’s too vivid for her to have conjured up on her own. 

“Petra!” 

Her head snaps up, looking towards where she had heard the voice this time. It’s so surreal seeing Levi running towards her, almost as out of breath as she is. As he comes closer, she hears Levi’s familiar ringtone - one of the generic ones that were programmed into the phone because Levi could never be bothered to change it - and she hears her own call going to voicemail. Petra swipes her phone with her thumb, hanging up, and drops her phone in her pocket. 

“Levi,” she says slowly. She steps towards him tentatively, unsure if this is all real or if she’s finally cracked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Levi says quietly, voice breaking slightly. He steps toward her, and Petra sees that he looks the same as ever. The bags under his eyes are a little bit darker, his hair is a mess like he had forgotten to comb it, and his face is a little thinner, but there’s that same smile on his face when he sees her, the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. 

Petra’s lip trembles and she can feel tears coming. “I missed you,” she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. 

Levi reaches his hands out, holding hers. “I know. I missed you too.” He pulls her in and wraps his arms tightly around her. He lets her sob into his coat and he reaches up to stroke her hair with his hand. “I’m sorry I took so long. I had to say goodbye to some people.” 

“That’s good,” Petra mumbles into the wool of his coat. She’s happy, she really is, even as she’s crying. “Levi, that’s so good.” 

They should probably talk more - about Levi’s sudden arrival, about where he’s going to stay, about whether or not they’re going to be okay - but that can wait. For the first time in a long time, Petra no longer feels empty. She no longer feels alone. For the first time in a long time, Petra feels as if she’s come home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure what to do with myself after finishing this. I'm writing another multi-chaptered fic, but that won't be done for quite a while so I was thinking about writing something else on the side as well. I only really write 1k a day - gotta focus on work and other things too - but it's nice to have projects to focus on in the midst of all this. Writing feels like the one thing I can actually control. It's hard to pick a project though. I just keep watching and reading new things and getting ideas for new AUs even though I already have many AUs on the table, hahaha. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy whatever I have in store!

**Author's Note:**

> This quarantine situation has given me a lot of time to write, although I hope I become productive in other things as well. I watch a bit too much TV while I'm writing, so it's good my boyfriend is nice enough to beta for me. 
> 
> This is all planned out. Hopefully, the next chapter is out next week as expected. I have a lot more free time now that I don't have to commute constantly. I hope the situation gets better though. Everyone, please stay safe and healthy :)


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